


Don't Wanna Break These Chains

by candlejill



Series: Feed My Frankenstein [10]
Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst, Biting, Bottom Carl Grimes, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Light BDSM, M/M, Negan (Walking Dead) Being an Asshole, Swearing, Top Negan (Walking Dead)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 05:16:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11662359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candlejill/pseuds/candlejill
Summary: Negan gives Carl one last visit.





	Don't Wanna Break These Chains

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS FOR THE COMIC IN THIS FIC! I have been working toward this point in the comic so much of the dialogue has been taken from it. Just giving everyone a heads up. If you're trying to avoid it you might not want to read this one.

“You make a single fuckin’ noise and I’ll slit that pretty throat of yours.”

Carl’s stomach leapt into his chest, “Negan?!” He struggled to sit up in his bed but was held firmly in place by the man now straddling his hips and holding a blade to his throat. “What the hell?” His wrists were bound above his head. It scared the hell out of him that Negan was able to do all of that while he slept. Living in Alexandria was making him soft.

Swiftly, Negan moved his arms in the dark and before Carl realized what had happened he felt fabric forcing itself between his teeth.

“Ah, ah!” Negan held the gag against his mouth. “You’re probably wondering how the hell I got in here, right? Maybe you’re wondering whether or not I slit Rick’s throat down the hall there?”

Carl tried kicking his legs but found himself unable to move them. He realized that Negan had tied them down too. Freezing all movement, Carl glared at Negan above him, seething into the cocky grin that smiled back at him.

“Before you hurt yourself trying to ask,” Negan’s voice was scratchy and hushed, “Rick’s still asleep like a darling fuckin’ angel in the other room. Now, I know right now you’re thinking you want to make a goddamn racket, but before you settle on that dumbass decision just keep in mind what might follow. Despite what I’ve heard you say, I _know_ you don’t want me dead. You might still be lying to yourself about that but I know you, Carl. And, if you yell for Daddy to come in here? Well there’s gonna be a scuffle. One of us probably isn’t going to make it out of that fight. I’m outnumbered here, I admit it. But I’ve also had fuck all to do in that jail except a hell of a lot of push ups and work on building up more than a little bit of resentment. You gonna chance that against your dad’s life? Michonne’s?”

Narrowing his eye, Carl straightened himself out, trying to convey that he was listening.  
  
“I could have fucked right off, you _know_ that? I could have left without a _single_ goddamn trace. But fuck it, Carl. I guess I’m a little sentimental. I wanted to _see_ you.” Smiling, he traced the blade of the knife against Carl’s cheek.

The metal was cold and made him shiver.

“You have a choice,” Negan smiled. “I had an abundance of free time in that cell and I’ve thought of a few things I want to do to you, however, we only have so much time here. Can’t exactly risk fuckin’ you until sunup. So, I’m gonna ask you a question and you better know what the hell I’m asking here.” He paused, looking seriously down at Carl, “Do you _want_ me to leave?”

Carl huffed a laugh against his gag. Restrained to the bed, cloth against his lips, knife against his cheek, and Negan was asking for permission.

He struggled against the last drop of his better judgement. Reluctantly, he closed his eye and tilted his head enough so Negan would understand that, no, Carl did _not_ want Negan to go.

Heart racing, he opened his eye to see the dimples of Negan’s wide smile. It made Carl’s face heat. Negan was so sincerely happy about that response and it was because of _him._ Negan trailed the tip of the blade down his chest, around Carl’s abdomen, gently pushing the fabric of the shirt up higher.

Closing his eye, Carl focused on the shivering cool slide of the metal slip lightly across his skin. It made him arch into the touch, craving just a little more. More than the petty teasing that Negan loved so much.

When those warm lips met the crook of his neck, Carl moaned around the gag and tried to arch further into Negan. Suddenly he remembered that this was how they were that first time, only now _he_ was at Negan’s mercy. Not being able to move made him feel more vulnerable than he had in a long time, but overwhelming faith in Negan’s honesty, and a rapidly filling dick, drove out his insecurities.

Suddenly, Carl didn’t care any longer about all the shit Negan had put him through. His stomach jumped as Negan bit hard on his neck. Thrusting himself, hard and aching against Negan, Carl whimpered around his gag. He wanted that hot mouth against his skin. Fucking harder. Enough to bleed and burn and leave a permanent reminder of everything that Negan did to him.

Realizing this would probably be their last time, Carl tried to speak against the gag. Negan pulled his head up and Carl could see the lust in those dark eyes looking back at him. Hungry and raw and ready to destroy him.

And god, he fucking wanted it.

Negan held the knife against his cheek, the tip threatening to slice through his skin, “Are you going to yell?”

Carl shook his head no.

Quickly, Negan cut through, freeing his mouth.

Carl inhaled deeply and watched as he moved to his feet as the blade slit the rope apart strand by strand. Negan didn't touch his wrist, though.

"How'd you get out? Did you kill the guard?"

"She left the door unlocked and she's mostly fine."

Before he had a chance to reply, Negan’s mouth was covering his own. He savored the warm familiar taste of those lips and moaned against his tongue. Pulling against the rope around his wrists, Carl fought to get his hands on him. His heart raced a demanding speed. The only thoughts he could manage were _More. Harder. Fuck._  

His cock was aching and though he wanted more than anything to have the whole day with the man, he knew Negan would be leaving soon. Probably forever. He had wild images of packing a bag and leaving with him. Carl knew he’d be able to get Negan out safely. Things had changed so much since he’d been in jail. He’d need help to navigate the new structure of the communities.

But then Negan sucked hard at his bottom lip, making him forget anything other than the hard body grinding down on top of him.

Turning his head, Carl scratched quietly, “Just fuck me already! Come on!”

The deep laugh vibrated next to him, but Negan stopped his teasing. His rough fingertips traced down his abdomen making his stomach flutter, until his hand reached into his boxers and wrapped firmly around his prick.

“Yeah,” Carl sighed, arching into his hand. But the warmth of Negan’s body above him was suddenly gone.

Feeling the pangs of losing the heat against his mouth, Carl opened his eye in time to see Negan licking his dick teasingly then sucking it fully into his mouth. He pulled against his restraints knowing he’d find bruises around his wrists by morning. Feeling Negan work his aching cock, knowing it would be the last night, he gave in entirely. Wanting anything the man would give him. Wishing it would never end. All the guilt, the shame, the regret, he traded it all go for this last time with Negan.

Breathing hard with each swipe of Negan’s tongue and pull of his wrist, Carl arched into his mouth. Negan gripped his hip hard enough to bruise. More proof for later that he’d been there.

“Negan,” Carl whined, opening his eye to watch.

He looked and without hesitation Negan sat up, tugged Carl’s underwear off, followed by removing his own shirt. Hair disheveled, he leaned down, covering Carl’s mouth again, licking into him without restraint. 

There were no teasing jabs or insults between them.

Kissing back, shivering against Negan’s touch, in that moment Carl needed him. Negan’s hands ran through his hair, held his jaw as he kissed him desperately.

“Negan, come on,” Carl pleaded quietly against his lips.

He felt a hand reach down, only to languidly stroke his dick. Teasing him and keeping him on edge.

“You got any lube?” Negan’s teeth trailed over his neck, biting, making Carl breathless.

With an unexpected hard bite, Carl gasped from the pain. His stomach jumped from the sting and his dick twitched in interest. “Nightside table,” he admitted.

Negan didn’t tease him or have some jackass remark, he just stood to grab it and returned to Carl. Impatiently, Negan covered his fingers and returned his hand to Carl’s prick.

His heart pounded as Negan grabbed him firmly. Carl wanted to beg him to let his wrists go. If this was going to be the last time, he wanted to feel every inch of him. Stubbornly, he didn’t plead for what he wanted, though.

He felt Negan brush a finger against his hole, making him shiver. Then Negan crawled on the bed. He adjusted Carl's legs so he could kiss his lips and let his hand explored lower.

Carl let the breathless pleas escape his lips until Negan opened him with intention. He pulled against his restraints, forgetting that he was entirely helpless and completely at Negan’s mercy.  

As his fingers worked him open, Negan adjusted himself so he could lean over Carl, silencing his quiet protests with his lips. Carl felt the stinging burn he’d been yearning for while Negan continued to massage inside him. Writhing down on his rough deft fingers, he longed to never forget the taste of Negan’s mouth or the sweet ache he’d leave behind when Carl was finally alone with his traitorous thoughts.

“Negan,” he whispered, unsure of what the rest of his thought had been.

Removing his hand from Carl, his fingers trailed lightly along his hips making him shiver. He knew he should feel exposed and vulnerable, but in that moment he could only see the way Negan was looking back at him. Those damned fingers tracing invisible lines from his side up his arms while Negan studied his lithe frame in the moonlit darkness of the room.

The desire burning fiercely behind his eyes staring back at him made Carl finally feel like he could believe Negan. With his chest puffing out hard above him, breathless and shaking, Carl could finally see the effect he was having on Negan. It hit him in the gut, stomach clenching making it hard to breath.

Then, swiftly, Negan removed his remaining clothes tossing them carelessly off the bed.

Aching, Carl wanted to touch that firm body in front of him, but Negan had no intention of freeing his hands. Without warning, he positioned himself, shifting and adjusting until his dick was lined up behind Carl’s ass. And he pushed in.

Carl squeezed his eye closed tight and quietly cried out from the familiar pain. Writhing his legs, making room for all of Negan, he waited for him to move. When he didn’t he looked to find Negan leaning toward him. Kissing him once more. Running his hands up Carl’s arms and then fingers were scratching in his hair making him shiver. Negan’s dick was twitching inside him, his tongue was in his mouth and his skin was fire and ice. Burning hot and cold. It was too much. And not enough.

Negan needed to be closer. Deeper. Covering every inch of him.

Carl could only beg into his mouth between breaths until Negan finally began to push deeper inside. Adrenaline charged through his veins, heightening his appetence, enticing Carl’s body to shake and shiver from his touch.

“How the hell are you doin’ this to me, Carl?” Negan whispered softly against his ear.

Pulling out he pushed back in slowly. Stretching the burn until Carl felt like he was floating.

“I should be gone,” he panted against Carl’s ear, again driving into him. “What the hell am I doing here?”

Carl recognized the helplessness of his tone, not wanting to admit a weakness but indulging in it nonetheless.

“How am I going to just leave you here?” His words were chosen carefully as he looked back down at Carl.

Carl lifted his head, “Negan, _please._ Just fuck me already. I can’t take it any more.”

Broad palms ran over his chest until Negan had a tight grasp around his hips. He pulled and thrust into Carl with force. Ropes pulled at his wrists as Negan’s dick pounded hard against his ass. He tried not to regret being unable to touch him as he pulled again at his restraints, now burning hot around the sensitive abused skin.

He couldn’t remember life before this. Before Negan. Before questioning why life was even worth living. He knew now what they had been fighting so hard for. Just like he knew he was about to lose it. Negan would be gone and all Carl wanted was to be with him. He’d follow him anywhere. Any goddamn place as long as he’d keep thrusting into him. Just. Right.

“Negan,” Carl moaned grasping at the ropes.

He was so fucking hard and each pound into him made him forget himself a little bit more. He needed the feeling of that cock deep inside him. The aching burn in his ass. The bruises on his hips. The rope burn on his wrists. It was Negan. All of it was Negan. And it was him. That’s what they did. That’s who they were together.

Negan continued to thrust into him, quickly, fierce and brutal, and just how Carl loved. When his fist wrapped confidently around Carl’s dick, he came with one stroke. And Negan followed, breathless and savage, leaning over Carl’s limp, spent body.

Both lay quietly together trying to catch their breath. Negan pulled out of Carl and laid next to him on the small bed. His fingers traced the rough scars of Carl’s wound. It made him shiver to see Negan look at him so tenderly. Trailing his fingers down his chest, Negan pulled away. He turned and stood from the bed, searching for his clothes. Standing, putting them on quickly, he turned away from Carl and put his hands on his hips.

“You can’t _leave_ me like this, Negan,” Carl said confidently, still naked and bound at the wrists. 

Sighing, Negan turned around, “I’m not going to _leave you_ like that, jackass.” His words didn’t have the usual jovial tone.

Negan reached for Carl’s boxers and put them on top of his lap. He sat on the bed.

“You can untie me. I’m not going to run to my dad.”

Scoffing, Negan said, “You really should, kid.” Tilting his head away he continued, “Give me a head start though.” He turned back to Carl.

Carl’s chest clenched as Negan reached for his wrists and untied the knots. When he was free Carl sat next to Negan. He forced the man to turn to him. With his hands on his jaw, Carl kissed him, deeply and with all the words he would never say.

And Negan kissed him back.

When they parted, Negan stood. With his hands on his hips he asked, “Five minutes? You can give me five minutes, right? For old times sake? Orgasm for a favor, that’s how this works right?”

Smirking, Carl closed his eye and nodded. “Watch out for the main paths. They’re guarded now.” Standing absently, letting his boxers hit the floor, Carl threatened, “And Negan, if I hear you fucking touch so much as a _hair_ on anyone’s head along the way, I will hunt you down and slit your throat myself.”

He smiled wide, sharing his dimples one last time he replied, “Hell Carl, sounds like _my_ kind of date.”

Shaking his head, smiling despite himself, Carl said, “Get the hell out of here already. It’ll be light soon.”

Negan nodded and winked, “See you around, Carl.” Biting his lip, Negan took one last long look at Carl then walked out of his bedroom door.

Carl sighed pulling on his boxers. He bandaged his eye, sat on his bed, and let himself fall back to stare at the darkness of the ceiling. With his stomach churning and his throat clenching making it hard to swallow, Carl closed his eye and took a deep breath. He could smell Negan all over his sheets. He wouldn't let his thoughts wander into what was happening. He wouldn't let himself regret not visiting Negan in jail more often. As he lay there, calming his racing heart, he waited until he figured Negan had a good head start. He finally stood up.

He didn’t know what to say. What to tell Rick. But if Carl didn’t tell him he would know in an instant that Negan had visited him. Playing dumb wouldn’t work.

Taking a deep breath, he walked down the hall and knocked confidently on the door. “Dad! Open up.”

He heard Rick and Michonne quickly rustling sheets. Scrambling to find a weapon. His dad opened the door with a gun in hand, “What is it?”

“Negan’s gone,” he replied simply.

“Negan?” Rick put his gun down. “What do you mean _‘Negan’s gone’_?”

“I-” Carl shook his head, “I saw him leaving. He got out.”

Instantly angry, Rick leaned into him, “Carl, you _saw_ him leave or _you left_ the goddamn door open?”

His stomach sank. It was stupid of him not to realize that his visits to Negan did not go unnoticed. Narrowing his eye, angry, Carl said, “I wouldn’t _do_ that. You know that!”

“Did you _let_ him out?” Rick shook his head, “I know you’ve been seeing him, Carl. I know you’ve been sneaking out at night but I sure as hell don’t want to know what you’re doing there. I assumed you’d at least be smart enough to lock the goddamn door after you leave.”

“It wasn’t me! I didn’t let him out, okay!” He didn’t bother denying the accusations. “Who’s on guard tonight? Go ask where the hell they were. I saw him walking around from my room.”

“Goddamnit,” Rick swore.

“We need to get him back, Rick,” Michonne said, standing at the door, sword in hand.

Rick gave Carl a studying glare before he stormed out in front of them, leading outside of the house.

“Which way did he go?” 

Carl wasn’t sure. He _did_ see Negan leave from his room, he just neglected to mention that he was leaving from _his room_ at the time. “I think that way,” Carl pointed to the dark.

“Shit,” Rick rubbed his mouth. “Alright, I need to talk to whoever the hell was responsible for letting him out get out.”

Reluctantly, they jogged toward the cell. As they approached, Carl notice a large form laying on the ground outside the jail.

“God _damn_ it,” Rick shook his head. He knelt down next to the body to feel for a pulse, “She’s okay,” he sighed. “Alright Carl, you head to the front gate. See if anyone saw which direction he went. Michonne, get her to the infirmary then wake some others to help look. I’m going to check for breaches in the wall.” Rick grabbed Michonne’s wrist before she turned away, “And be careful.”

She nodded and knelt down to the unconscious guard.

Shaking his head to himself, Carl left them. He walked through the dark and made his way to the main entrance. He didn’t think Negan would be stupid enough to try and escape through the most heavily guarded door, but there are a lot of things Negan’s done that Carl didn’t expect. He fought with himself, wishing they’d be able to find him but also knowing living in a cage isn’t much of a life. Negan _deserved_ it, Carl had no doubt, but he couldn’t blame him for escaping.

When he approached the main gate he asked the guards if they’d seen anyone out. He informed them of the situation. Luckily, he didn’t come that way which made Carl feel both relieved and more on edge. Carl instructed them to check outside the walls, quietly and safely, and to bring him back alive if they found him.

He knew they wouldn’t. People didn’t want Negan alive, especially those who lived through his reign.

After having covered the ground he could, Carl turned back toward town. He watched as a handful of people carrying guns scattered around the streets. The uneasy feeling festering in his stomach made him hope that Negan was far away by now.

He found his dad walking back toward the jail.

Jogging over to him, Carl said, “They haven’t seen him at the front gate. I sent some of them outside the wall to look.” 

“Okay, that’s good, Carl.”

“Were the walls okay? He didn’t do anything to them, did he?”

“Nothing that I could see but we'll need to examine them closer when the sun is up.” As they continued to walk closer to the jail Rick added, “I have to see how the hell he got out. There’s no way he could pick those locks.”

Carl breathed a sigh of relief. His dad didn’t accuse him this time and seemed to have finally believed him when he said he didn’t let him out.

Pulling the door open and walking to the cell, Carl saw the door to the cell swung wide open. At first he almost missed it, but then he saw in the dark, smiling wide, Negan sitting on the floor leaning against the far wall.

“Hello, Rick,” Negan smirked.

Rick paused in shock before he reached for his gun, “Don’t move!”

“Really? Are you kidding me with this shit?” Negan asked. “Do you have _any_ fucking idea how much I could have fucked you up right now? I could have bent you over right now and drove my fist right up into your asshole. You’d be my fuckin’ Rick puppet.” Negan laughed, “Why do you think I haven’t done that?”

Carl and Rick stared back at him, both shocked and confused. Carl never imagined that after Negan left he would return to the jail. Seeing Negan so calm and smug, smiling back at them like it was nothing, made his heart race. It made him uneasy to wonder what his intentions were and if anyone would get hurt along the way.

“This is about building _trust,_ ” Negan said.

“Trust?” Rick scoffed.

“Someone didn’t lock my fucking cage. I could have walked right the fuck on out of Alexandria. I _didn’t_ ,” he smiled. “Trust.”

“You expect me to _trust_ you?” Rick asked incredulously.

“No, goddamnit! I expect you to be suspicious as fuck and run around checking this whole goddamn fucking town for fuckin’ booby traps and shit. _How_ long have I been free? Did I knock a fucking hole in the wall? Did I mess with the wires in your basement so your home will burn down with you in it? Did I bring out my perfectly _normal-sized wiener_ and fuck orgasms into your boy Carl until he ordered a T-shirt from the _Negan’s Cock Fan Club?!”_

Aiming his gun, Rick threatened through gritted teeth, “Keep it up.”

“Don’t interrupt me,” Negan retorted. “I _could_ have fucked you up before you got enough bullets in to stop me." He studied Rick before saying, “I didn’t do that, though. And I didn’t do all that other fucking shit I just mentioned. Do I expect you to trust me? _Hell fucking no!_ But when you fucking find the fuck out that I didn’t fucking do a fucking thing while I was free, I fucking expect you to _recognize_ that so we can begin to _build trust_ between us.”

Shaking his head, Rick replied, “That will never happen.”

“What? Why the hell not?”

“Are you _joking_?” He held his gun steady aiming between Negan’s eyes.

“What? Am I being punished for keeping my people alive despite the end of the fucking world? I’m being punished for the things I did to make that happen? Are you saying you haven’t done anything you regretted to keep your people alive? Nothing that would, from an _outside_ perspective, make you look like an evil piece of shit? You’re saying _you never_ murdered innocent people in cold blood while they were fucking asleep?”

“I’m done with this,” Rick said. He walked over to the cell and shut the door, checking to ensure that it was latched closed properly.

With adrenaline pumping through his veins, Carl took a step closer to the cell to better see Negan in the dark room.

“Fine! Lock me up. Go for it.” Negan stood and approached Rick, “You keep me locked up here as long as you fuckin’ want. Forever if you want. I’m the toughest motherfucker you’re ever going to meet. I can take it. Hell, I fucking love it. I’m having a good time here. No need to boss people around. No fighting for my life against walking corpses. I should be _thanking_ you. Wait! _Thank you,_ Rick. From the bottom of my fucking heart, thank you.”

“Come on, Carl,” Rick turned his back to Negan.

Hesitating, Carl looked back at Negan carefully. He tried not to believe the words Negan was telling them, but something seemed different about him. He _could_ have escaped. He could have killed Rick while Carl was still asleep in bed. But he didn’t. Carl tried to ignore the nagging thoughts of hope that maybe, eventually, they could work something out.

As Carl trailed behind Rick reluctantly, Negan called out, “Don’t kid yourself into thinking you keep me locked up in here is some kind of symbol of your _mercy._ We _both_ know that’s not true _. You_ know the _real_ reason I’m here! I’m here because after everything _you_ did, _everything_ you lived through, _I’m_ the only thing you can use to convince yourself you’re a _good_ person.” Smiling wide, Negan continued, “After everything _I_ did, you fucking let me live! _Me!_ Only the greatest person on Earth would do that! Rick Grimes is the greatest man who ever lived!”

Rick opened the door, ignoring Negan’s voice calling after him.

Carl turned back, desperate to stay and figure out what the hell Negan was planning. He _needed_ to talk to him. Alone. But after the abuse Negan dished out to Rick, Carl thought it was better to wait.

Standing outside the jail, Rick told Carl, “Go around and tell everyone we have him. Everything is fine. But tell them to keep an eye out for anything Negan might have done.”

Nodding, Carl walked away, headed toward the gate. It already seemed like a lifetime ago when Negan had woken him up in his room.

Though it was still morning, Carl knew the day was only going to get longer.

* * *

 

Standing outside the door to the jail, Carl took a deep breath. It wasn’t difficult to slip away from Rick, but the guilt he harbored made his stomach churn. Pushing the door open, he saw Negan sitting on the bed, greeting him with a big smile. 

“Hey, kid,” Negan stood. He sauntered over to the bars and slipped his arms through, resting against them carefully.

Fighting against a blush, Carl walked closer, “ _Why_ are you still here?”

Laughing quietly, Negan answered sarcastically, “Well, I took a look at my options, made a list of pros and cons, and decided, fuck it. Food delivered daily. Blow jobs on the rare occasion. It’s better in here than out there.” Smirking, he added, "And I didn't want you to miss me."

Shaking his head, Carl replied, “Did you mean those things you told my dad?”

Biting his lip he said sincerely, “Yeah, Carl.”

“You weren’t lying? You meant all of it?”

“I lied about one thing,” Negan admitted.

Narrowing his eye, Carl asked, “What was that?”

“Well, you’re probably going to have to wait a while before I can get you that _Negan’s Cock Fan Club_ shirt.”

Biting back a smile, Carl said, “You’re an asshole.”

“It’s all just part of my charismatic magnetism.” Smiling, he added, “Some people are into that kind of thing.”

Smiling reluctantly, Carl nodded, “Despite their better judgment.” Faintly in the background, he heard voices at the door. “I should go,” he said.

As he turned to walk away, Negan quickly asked, “Hey, will you work on your dad for me? Look, I’m not asking for a goddamn five star recommendation. Just,” he sighed, “Remind him occasionally that I didn’t leave. I _chose_ to stay.”

Carl nodded hesitantly and turned back to the door.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Negan called. “Will you come the hell back more often? It's boring as fuck here.”

Hiding his face, Carl smiled. Quickly removing it he turned back to Negan, “We might be able to work out a deal.”

Carl watched as Negan smiled at him then he turned and walked away.  


End file.
